


Christmas is not meant to be spent alone

by MiraclesAndObstacles



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:13:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8736193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraclesAndObstacles/pseuds/MiraclesAndObstacles
Summary: James is a single father struggling to find the perfect gift for his daughter.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kroos8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kroos8/gifts).
  * Translation into Español available: [No se supone que estés solo en Navidad](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8761096) by [Deiv17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deiv17/pseuds/Deiv17)



> Hi there!  
> I hope you had a great start into Christmas season.  
> This is for you, Kroos8, because Christmas season is all about making gifts and spreading love. xx
> 
> Have fun reading.

** Christmas isn’t meant to be spent alone **

 

The shopping mall is packed with people desperately trying to get some last minute shopping done. It's pure chaos, with few minutes left until closing, as parents split up and run to different stores to save time.

 

James Rodríguez is not one of those parents; his franticness is directed inwards. He's already bought plenty of presents to spoil his daughter, all of which are hidden in the basement, the only room too scary for his daughter to go snooping in. Still, all the gifts he bought her were ones he figures she'd like, rather than gifts she's asked for.

 

Which is really the only reason they're here.

 

James has absolutely no idea what his daughter wants, as she refuses to tell him.

 

(And sure, his heart swells whenever she responds with, "I don't want anything, Daddy, just for you to be happy," as it shows maturity beyond her years, but spoiling her for Christmas is his right, damn it, and it would make him happy, even if his banking account disagrees.)

 

Clutching his daughter's hand tightly, James isn't sure who is leading whom, as they make their way towards the main attraction of the season.

 

Santa's come to town today, taking residence in the center of the mall. It's decked out in holiday spirit: a red carpet with gold trims blanket the floor, as does artificial snow and shrubbery; there's a fenced in area that contains honest-to-God reindeer that is dubbing as a petting zoo and pony ride attraction; and in the center of it all parked next to the colossal tree is a giant wooden throne, surrounded by wrapped gifts of various sizes colored in greens, reds, and gold.

 

It's a sight to see, James thinks, even if he's simply gazing at his daughter, watching her take it all in with wide eyes filled with awe.

 

A disgruntled elf greets them with false cheer as they make their way to stand in line. It's clear the elf doesn't want to be here, or at least in that specific, and likely purposefully ridiculous uniform, but James glares at her all the same as she hands his daughter a candy cane, sighing as she does so.

 

She rolls her eyes when she meets James's gaze, then just turns and sits on her stool, pulling out her cell phone to pass the time. She may not care about the holiday, but James will be damned if he lets one little disgruntled elf ruin Christmas for his daughter.

 

The line is short and his daughter waits patiently by James's side, her hand still held by James, a smile of excitement on her lips as she waits for what's coming.

 

James wishes he could share in her patience; he's hoping the kids in front won't take too long. James's on a mission here and he can't afford to fail. If he does, Christmas may be ruined.

 

They're finally first in line, the kid in front of them hopping off of Santa's lap, when the PA sounds that the mall is closing, thanking all shoppers for their time. James groans out of irritation and sighs longsuffering as the elf from earlier happily reiterates that they're closed and Santa has important work to do if everyone's going to get their Christmas gifts this year.

 

James chances a look at his daughter, and seeing her face flicker with disappointment is enough to break his heart. He's done it: he's ruined Christmas for her. He can hear her mother now, the mocking laughter and petty insults.

 

The elf is unrelenting, though, and James has to force himself to swallow his wounded pride. He's turning around when a booming voice from behind calls for their attention.

"Well, hold on. I'm sure Santa has time for one more."

 

James spins on his heels to find Santa smiling brightly at them.

 

"Well?" Santa prompts, after James just stares dumbly at him. James shakes his head and gathers himself, quickly directing his daughter towards him.

 

She climbs onto Santa's lap easily, with little help, and smiles that smile, that makes James feel like he's succeeded as a parent.

 

"Well hello, little one," Santa starts. "And what might your name be?"

 

"Salomé," his daughter replies promptly.

 

"Sally, oh?" Santa asks.

 

"No, silly," his daughter giggles, endlessly patient. "Salomé," she says again.

 

"Oh, Salomé," Santa says. "What a lovely name, if I do say so myself."

 

"Thank you, Santa, my daddy gave it to me," she says, pointing in James's direction. James blushes, simultaneously embarrassed and struggling not to laugh at her sarcastic reply.

 

Santa laughs, loud and pleasantly. "A pretty name for a pretty girl."

 

"I'm a little lady, Santa," she corrects, and James really wants to laugh as he takes in Santa's taken aback expression of his daughter’s bluntness.

 

"Well I do apologize then," Santa says sincerely.

 

"That's okay," Salomé says, patting Santa's arm. "You didn't know any better. I forgive you."

 

"That's very nice of you," Santa says. "So, have you been a good little lady this year?"

 

"Yes," she nods. "Most of the time. And when I'm not daddy will put me in time out, so in the spirit of Christmas I think it's only fair that you don't punish me again for crimes I've already done time for."

 

Santa laughs again, admiringly, looking back and forth between James and his daughter, as if he can't believe she's real.

 

James understands the feeling; sometimes even he feels as though his daughter is too good to be true. It's ironic, James suddenly thinks: believing in Santa's existence is almost easier than believing James's luck in having his daughter.

 

James considers himself fortunate that the latter is his life.

 

"Well then, Salomé," Santa starts, calming down. "What would you like for Christmas?"

 

Suddenly Salomé looks unsure of herself, and James frowns; it's unlike her to do that. Santa senses her sudden unease and addresses her again, softer this time.

 

"It's okay," Santa insists. "You can tell me what you want. It can be anything in the entire world."

 

"Anything?" she asks shyly, almost unbelieving.

 

"Anything," Santa confirms. "Whatever would make you happy."

 

Salomé takes a quick look at her dad before leaning in close to whisper in Santa's ear. Santa's a bit surprised by her sudden movements, but holds on to her as she whispers him her wishes.

 

James's a bit bummed out by it all, as he was hoping that he'd be able to overhear what she wanted then purchase it later.

 

His daughter finishes telling Santa her wish and pulls away from him, the tips of her cheeks darkened with embarrassment as she looks up to Santa with earnestly hopeful eyes.

 

"My, my," Santa says. "That's quite a wish."

 

"It's what I want," Salomé says with certainty. "It's all I want."

 

Santa's eyes dart to James before returning to Salomé. "Okay then. I'll talk with my elves and we'll see what we can do, but I can't make you any promises other than I promise to try."

 

"Okay," Salomé says, not in the least bit disappointed. "That's okay. So long as you try then I don't mind."

 

And that's that, apparently, as Salomé climbs off of Santa's lap, fixing her dress once she's on her feet. An elf, a friendly one, directs her towards the tree and lets her pick out a wrapped present to take home. Since she's distracted and under the care of a friendly elf, James decides to have a talk with Santa as well.

 

"Hey, Santa," James says, walking up to him. "May I talk to you?"

 

Santa raises an eyebrow at James, curious, then grins at him.

 

"Well, I suppose I did say one more kid," Santa jokes. "Okay, then, come sit on Santa's lap."

 

"I -- what?" James asks, startled.

 

"Did you want to ask Santa something for Christmas?"

 

"I -- well, yes, but --" James stammers.

 

"Well, then, come sit on Santa's lap!"

 

James's certain his cheeks are hot enough to melt the artificial snow around him. He takes a quick glance all around him before hastily making his way to sit on Santa's lap, feeling intensely embarrassed.

 

"It's always nice to know that some adults still believe in Santa," the bearded man says. He's got nice brown eyes, and maybe it's the Santa suit talking, but the guy's eyes remind James of some nice hot cocoa. They just seem so warm and inviting, and James feels safe staring at them on Santa's lap.

 

"And what might your name be?"

 

"It's James," he says, hoping there's no one around witnessing this.

 

"And have you been a good boy this year?"

 

James gives Santa a look, but Santa returns it challengingly. James realizes he has no choice but to answer.

 

"I --." The year itself has been bad to James, he thinks. The only upside was that his divorce was finalized, but James can't even bring himself to feel happy about that because his daughter will grow up with only one parent. Even if she never was a good mother to begin with, James knows he can't do everything on his own. "I've been a good father," James decides to answer, gazing at his daughter as she feeds a reindeer an apple.

 

James can literally feel Santa soften at that, and James lets out a sigh that he's doing alright with her.

 

"Is there anything you would like for Christmas this year, James?" Santa asks quietly.

 

"Yeah," James says, still looking at his daughter. "For her to be happy."

 

James's heart swells up a bit as they both watch her giggling happily as the reindeer licks at her open palm.

James gets up from Santa's lap and digs in his pocket for his wallet.

 

"I'm not sure what she asked you for," James says, pulling out five hundred dollar bills, "but I would very much appreciate it if you could get her whatever it is she wants and bring them to this address."

 

Santa's making aborted sounds of confusion as James pushes the bills into his hand but James ignores him, going about pulling a business card out and flipping it around, writing his home address on the back before handing it to Santa.

 

"Just, please," James says to a very confused Santa. "That's my Christmas wish, for you to get whatever my daughter asked for. Just, please, make it happen."

 

***

 

It's Christmas Eve and James has all but forgotten about his Christmas wish to Santa. He's alone until late tonight, Salomé out with her mother as they visit Salomé's maternal grandparents. It leaves a bitter jealousy in James's stomach, and even though James has full custody over their daughter, he knows that Salomé would enjoy some time with her mother's family. It's a small sacrifice to have her all on his own for Christmas.

 

For the moment, James is wrapping the last of the presents. There's definitely a lot more than there were last year, which is probably five times more than even necessary, but James doesn't care too much. She's an only child, so by rule she's meant to be spoiled, and as a single father James feels as though he has to overcompensate for that.

 

The doorbell rings, giving James momentary freedom from his monotonous job. He's not sure who it could be, knowing his best friend Cristiano's already flown back home for the holidays, and he's not expecting his daughter back until tonight, but he doesn't much care: his fingers are cramping and his back aches from measuring and cutting all the gift wrap.

 

He frowns as he looks out the window walking to the door, not recognizing the man who stands anxiously on his doorstep. He opens the door nonetheless, and the visitor spins on his feet to greet him.

 

"Hi," the man says, biting his bottom lip while trying to offer a nervous and awkward smile.

 

James recognizes him the minute he looks into the man's eyes. They're warm and delectable and remind James of the endless sea.

 

"Santa," James states simply.

 

The man's cheeks flush red, and James can't tell if it's out of embarrassment or the cold outside.

 

"Uh, yeah," the man says, chuckling awkwardly. "Surprised you recognized me without the beard. So, uh, is Salomé here?" he asks, his eyes darting past James and into the open house behind him.

 

"No, she's won't be home until tonight," James answers, finally piecing together the reasoning for the man's visit. The man nods, taking it all in. "Did you bring the stuff with you?"

 

"Uh, sort of," the guy says. "It's not with me, though, I sort of need help with it. Your help."

 

James raises an eyebrow, not sure he believes the guy, but he figures he may as well trust him. James did hand him $500 and he showed up on James's doorstep, so that has to say something.

 

"Okay," James says slowly as he turns to grab his coat and keys. "So what did you end up getting her?"

 

James turns around to be greeted by the man's bright smile.

 

"It's a surprise," the man says, and even though there's nervousness to the man's tone, James feels as though he's going to like it.

 

***

 

They take James's vehicle, because it's bigger and James's imagining the present the man got Salomé is huge, which is why he showed up on James's doorstep asking for help. The other man doesn't acknowledge or confirm James's suspicion, but he doesn't exactly protest it, either.

 

The guy sits in the front passenger seat, offering directions in between bits of small talk. James follows the directions the man gives, although he grows a bit concerned when he realizes they're going into the commercial district of the city rather than the residential parts.

 

"Okay, just take a right up here, and then it'll be on the left."

James nods as he turns right, but only grows more confused when he sees that all that's on this block is a fancy restaurant, a jewelry shop, and a boutique. James's really not sure his daughter would appreciate a present from any of these vendors.

 

Still, he parks his car before he voices any of his confusion.

 

"What are we doing here?" James asks, squinting at the shops before he turns to the man.

 

The guy offers James a reassuring smile as he unfastens his belt buckle.

 

"Just trust me, okay?" he says, and James makes the mistake of staring in the man's eyes as he says it, and the earnestness in them just leave James feeling as though he has no choice but to listen to the man.

 

James swallows his spit and nods, unbuckling himself as he climbs out of his vehicle.

 

His mind is active with possibilities as he follows the man into the largest of the buildings on the block, a posh French restaurant James can't pronounce the name of.

 

The guy holds the door open for James to step inside first, and they're greeted by another man, offering to take their coats. The two hands their coats over, James with some hesitation, before the man puts his hand on the small of James's back and leads him towards the hostess.

 

"Uh, hi," the guy greets the hostess, who smiles politely at the two. "Reservation under Kroos?"

 

The woman looks up the reservation on her computer before nodding in confirmation at the pair, the smile back on her face as she leads them to a table near the back of the restaurant.

 

James, for his part, is thoroughly confused.

He says as much once they're seated and their waiter has left them with two menus.

 

"I'm thoroughly confused," James states, even as he looks over the menu. Most of the menu is written in French, and he's not exactly certain what a Morceau du Petit Bal is, but he's knows petit means small, so there's that.

 

"Yeah, uhm, don't laugh at me but I don't speak French either," the guy says, though he's laughing himself. "I just tend to pick something and hope it's not too exotic like fish eggs or snails."

 

James blinks at the man in front of him, not sure how else to react.

 

"What?" the guy asks.

 

The waiter interrupts them before James has a chance to respond.

 

"Any drinks or hors d'oeuvres to start you off with?" he asks, glancing between James and the other male.

 

"Uh, do you mind a wine?" the guy asks James, raising his eyebrow. James doesn't say yes, but he doesn't say no, either.

 

"We'll take a wine, whichever the house recommends, and some of those biscuit roll bagel thingies."

 

"The baguettes, sir?"

 

"Yeah!" the man says, raising his eyebrows in excitement as he does. "Those, too."

 

The waiter blinks at the man then turns to James, who shakes his head and shrugs sympathetically to the waiter.

 

"Right. Okay, I'll be right back with those."

 

"Thanks," the man says to the waiter, then turns his attention to James.

 

James continues to shake his head, as if it'll somehow clear some of the confusion rolling around in it. It doesn't, and so James's forced to ask for clarification.

 

"Okay, why are we at a French restaurant in the first place, especially if you can't even speak French?"

 

"You don't have to speak French just to appreciate French culture," the man chides gently. "And, dunno. It's one of my favorite restaurants, I was just hoping you'd enjoy it, is all."

 

James blinks at him again.

 

"Okay," James says slowly. "But why are we here? I thought we were going to pick up Salomé's present."

 

"Right, about that," the man starts, and James's stomach immediately fills with dread. It must show on James's face because he's quick to backtrack. "No, no, don't worry, everything's fine," he explains in a rush. "I still haven't forgotten about her Christmas wish, we'll get to that, you don't have to worry."

 

To prove his point the man raises from his chair to pull out his wallet, then retrieves the five hundred dollar bills James handed him the other day and returns them to him.

 

"But, her --," James trails off at the sound of the man's laughter, even more confused. The waiter returns to them with their baguettes and wine, pouring them each a glass before he gives them a few more minutes with their menus. Once he's gone James down his glass in one go, needing some liquid courage to relieve him of his suddenly growing headache. He immediately pours himself another glass.

 

"James, calm down, really," the man says, his voice as sincere as the first time they met. "It's okay, really. I promised Salomé I'd fulfill her Christmas wish. I don't need your money to do that. Just, trust me, okay?"

 

James finishes his second glass before he finds the strength to nod.

 

"Just enjoy yourself for now, okay? I promise, I'm not so bad."

 

"And who, exactly, are you?" James asks finally.

 

"Oh, right," the man says, blushing. "I'm Toni." He extends a hand towards James while the other scratches at his neck.

 

"Toni," James repeats, reaching over to accept Toni's hand, giving it a firm shake.

 

"Now that we're properly introduced, let's eat."

 

***

 

James ends up getting something with chicken. He's not certain what it was he even ordered, couldn't pronounce the dish even if he tried, he merely panicked when the waiter came back and pointed at something like Toni had said and got lucky when the plate came back as chicken.

 

Toni, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. He ordered a Bouillabaisse, joking about how the name reminded him of a plant. As Toni was shocked to discover, it wasn't a vegetable dish, but a fish soup.

 

He still decides to give it a go, and James can't tell if he's eating it to impress James or if he actually doesn't mind the taste.

 

"So, what are your plans for Christmas?" Toni asks.

 

James shrugs; there's not much. "Just Salomé and me, really. Her mom's bringing her over tonight and then it'll be just the two of us."

 

Toni makes a face, though James can't tell if it's from the soup or James's answer.

 

"Her mom? You three won't be spending Christmas together? I hear it's a holiday meant for family. At least, not to be alone."

 

James laughs outright. "Which is why it's just Salomé and I."

 

"Oh," Toni comments, dunking some of his bread into the soup, probably to make the taste less horrid, James imagines. "I take it --."

 

"Divorce," James says, answering the unasked question.

 

"Oh," Toni says again, his full lips frowning, looking genuinely hurt on James's behalf. "I'm sorry."

 

"Don't be," James says, dismissing Toni's apology. "We weren't meant for one another. We only stayed together for Salomé's sake, but we could only go so long playing pretend, you know?"

 

"So what happened, if you don't mind me asking," Toni asks, seemingly genuinely interested.

 

"No, I don't mind," James responds, surprising himself. He's really only talked to Cristiano about this, but it still feels like he has a lot on his chest about it. It's nice being able to unload it all onto someone else. There's a sense of anonymity talking about it with a near stranger.

 

James sits back in his chair as he gathers his thoughts, most of them focused on his daughter.

 

"I won't say that Salomé was an accident, because she's not -- she's the best thing that's ever happened to me. But she was unexpected. I -- we weren't in love, her mom and I. We weren't even together," James laughs, "but there was this night, we were both drunk, and one thing led to the next."

 

Toni nods, not wanting to interrupt.

 

"I never would've done that if I wasn't drunk.  Her and I both knew that. Back then, I thought I was going through a stage, you know? I didn't think I liked girls, but she liked me. And then that night happened: we slept together, I realized I was right, she found out she was pregnant, and we tried to make it work."

 

Toni's brow furrows, the question he's holding back obvious.

 

"Go ahead," James says, laughing, prompting Toni to ask his question.

 

"So then why'd you get married? If you knew you were gay, I mean."

 

"Her family is very conservative," James explains. "I mean, and it's probably really fucked up for me to say this, but I'm really glad that they are: she didn't want to go through with the pregnancy, but they wouldn't allow it."

 

"Wow," Toni breathes out.

 

"Yeah," James agrees, taking a swig of his wine, wincing slightly at the bitter taste. "But, I mean, it led to Salomé, and I knew the moment she was born that I was in love."

 

"So what about the marriage?" Toni presses. "How'd that happen?"

 

"Like I said, her family is very conservative, she was worried they would've cut her off if she gave birth out of wedlock. So, we tied the knot, she had the baby, and we somehow tried to make it work."

 

"But it didn't," Toni surmises.

 

"It did not," James agrees. "I mean, I really appreciate her, I do, because I know she didn't want to have a baby in the first place, but she stuck it out so I could get through university and all that, that way I'd have a career and stuff to support Salomé and I. But she was unhappy through it all; she blames me that I robbed her of her youth and early twenties and all that. There were a lot of fights, and I was tired of her cheating on me --."

 

"She cheated on you?" Toni interrupts, stunned.

 

"Well, it's not like we were sleeping together," James answers, unable to stop himself from laughing. Toni joins in with him. "But, yeah, she had her urges and would indulge in them, but I mean, we were married, you know? It's just, it was embarrassing, is all. The final straw was when Salomé found out about one of her lays."

 

"But that didn't end well," Toni comments.

 

"Ended in divorce," James chuckles. "Man, I was livid. I mean, it's one thing for all of our friends and family to comment on her activities outside of our marriage, but it's another for our daughter to have to witness that her mom is cheating on her dad, you know?"

 

Toni nods. "My parents divorced when I was about ten," he admits. "It was a bit rough, and when my sisters and I picked who we wanted to live with, it felt like I was picking sides. I didn't like that."

 

"Yeah, that sounds rough," James says.

 

"But, I mean, even though they're divorced, they still remained close? Maybe it was just for us kids' sake, but, I mean, they stayed friends. Whenever my mom got involved with a new guy, she'd always make it a point to explain that my dad was always going to be a major part of her life."

 

"And is she single?" James asks.

 

"Nah," Toni says, waving a hand. "Got remarried about three years ago. He understands her, is all, him being a man of divorce as well."

 

"If only we could find the right person the first time, save us all from aches and pains," James mutters, sipping the last of his wine.

 

"I disagree," Toni says. "I mean, if it was like that, Salomé wouldn't have been born. Me and my sisters wouldn't have been born."

 

James nods. "You have a point," he says. "Sorry," he adds, realizing he unwittingly insulted Toni.

 

"No worries," Toni grins at him. "I understand what you meant.

 

"So what about you?" James asks. "What's your plans for Christmas?"

 

"Uh, pretty much the same as you, you know, just without you and your kid and just me."

 

James laughs at his unnecessary answer, even more so when Toni grins at him.

 

"You're telling me that Santa has nothing to do on Christmas?" James presses.

 

"Christmas is actually the one day a year Santa has off," Toni informs him. "Christmas Eve is when he does all his real work."

 

"So you're supposed to be on the clock right now?" James snorts, pointedly looking around the restaurant before returning his gaze to Toni, brows raised.

 

"Hey, now," Toni says, palms held up. "Who says I'm not working right now?"

 

James hangs his head, chuckling, then calls for the waiter.

 

"Enjoying yourselves?" the waiter asks, and both of them answer yes. "Are you ready for your bill?"

 

"Uh, no, but I was hoping we could get some desserts?" James asks.

 

"Sure," the waiter says. "Anything you had in mind?"

 

James looks to Toni as he asks, "Do you guys have any cookies?" Toni's laughter dies in his throat, withering into an embarrassed squawk of indignation.

 

"Uhm, it's not part of our menu, but we do have some due to the holiday."

 

"Great, we'd like some of those, and some milk, if you could."

 

"Okay, it'll be right out," their waiter says, disappearing into the kitchen.

 

"You're horrible," Toni says, though he can't keep himself from falling into another fit of giggles. "Absolutely horrible."

 

"My mother always told me to leave some cookies out for Santa," James says innocently. "A way to thank him for all the presents."

 

Toni shakes his head, smile still on his lips, as the waiter returns with their desserts then leaves them to be.

 

"Chocolate chip," Toni answers, examining the cookies. He frowns when he realizes his cookie is too big to dunk into his glass, then breaks it in half before trying it again. It works, and he lets it drip the excess milk into his glass. "Now it's milk chocolate chip."

 

James snorts at him as he imitates Toni's actions, though milk ends up dribbling down his chin, causing Toni to laugh at him.

 

"Wow, I've not done this in forever," James admits.

 

"What, gone out?" Toni asks.

 

"I meant the cookie dunking, but yeah, that, too," James says. "This is definitely a step up from what I normally go to. Usually I just take Salomé out for McDonald's."

 

"Ah, a restaurant with a picture menu," Toni says dreamily, side eying his fish soup. He frowns, then. "I should've taken you there."

 

"Hey, I'm not the one that decided to pick out a French restaurant whose menus are also in French."

 

"Yeah, well, I figured you'd like it here," Toni says casually. "I mean, I do. The food is great, if you know what you're ordering."

 

"Not sure what I ordered," James admits, "but this chicken definitely was good. How was your soup?"

 

Toni sticks his tongue out at James as he chomps on another cookie, sending James into another laughing fit.

 

***

 

They end up going to McDonald's after the restaurant. Toni had covered the bill, ignoring all of James's protests and offers to pay his own way, and James had felt bad that Toni paid for such a high priced meal when he barely touched his soup.

 

McDonald's had no such protests, however, because Toni was still starving and devoured his Big Mac in about two minutes, not caring that he had sauce on his lips.

 

James's just lost in the moment, thoroughly enjoying himself in Toni's company, that he doesn't notice Toni's led him back to James's own home.

 

"Wait, I thought --," he turns to face Toni, who's grinning cheekily at him. "What about Salomé's present?"

 

James hadn't noticed it before, but they're not alone, Salomé's mom's car parked in the driveway beside Toni's. Salomé must've noticed them pull in, because she comes out running towards James's car, giggling and shouting for her daddy.

 

Toni exits the car and James does the same, cursing under his breath, but once he's out the car he has a little girl jumping on him. He can't help but laugh as he goes to steady her, holding her close.

 

"Missed you, daddy," she says, kissing James's cheek.

 

"Missed you, too, love," James says, kissing her back before he sets her on the ground. "But why aren't you wearing your coat? It's cold outside. Go get your jacket."

 

Salomé pouts for a moment and is about to turn when she notices Toni.

 

"Who's that?" she asks.

James's about to introduce him but Toni does himself.

 

"Hi," Toni says, moving to stand in front of her. He squats down and holds his hand out. "My name's Toni. I'm a friend of Santa's."

 

Salomé's eyes go wide at that and she rotates her gaze between James and Toni.

 

"You mean Santa made my wish come true?!"

 

"Well, I can't be certain, but maybe," Toni says, and James is so very completely confused at what's happening. What wish? They never picked up her present! "You'll just have to be a good girl and wait and see."

 

Salomé bites her bottom lip and nods, accepting this.

"Okay, I'll be a good girl. I really want that wish to come true."

 

"Okay then, why don't you go get your jacket like your daddy asked?"

 

Salomé nods and obediently runs back into the house.

 

"What -- what just happened?"

 

Toni turns shyly to face James, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth like Salomé's was a moment before.

 

"Uh, her wish, we sort of just did it?"

 

"What?"

 

"She said her daddy was lonely and her wish was for him to not be so lonely anymore."

 

James just stares dumbly in shock until Toni continues.

 

"She said you've been sad all year, and that since you didn't have her mom, you deserve someone else…"

 

"So, her gift, was you?"

 

"Well, not exactly," Toni says. "But, I'm not sure how I could've had someone else do it. I wasn't going to until you made your wish."

 

"So today, that was just…?"

 

"Well, I mean, if you want, it was a date…"

 

Salomé comes out then, running back to James and Toni, and stands herself right in front of them. She stares up at Toni, then looks at James, and asks, "Is he going to join us for Christmas?"

 

James looks to Toni, then, noting how he's still tugging at his lip.

 

"Christmas isn't meant to be spent alone," is all James says, his own lips curling into a smile.


End file.
